


A Modest Proposal

by AndreaChristoph



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fake Dating, Fluff and Humor, Flynn Family History, Flynn looks sexy in flannel, Lucy makes an ass of herself, New Years, OCs - Freeform, Power Dynamics, The Proposal AU, rom com
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaChristoph/pseuds/AndreaChristoph
Summary: Life has been great for Lucy Preston, the editor-in-chief of Preston-Keynes Publishing, with a major promotion on her horizon and her gorgeous boyfriend having just proposed to her on Christmas Day.  Plus she and her assistant, Garcia Flynn, have consistently knocked it out of the park for 2 years and become an unstoppable dream team.The only problem?  Aside from the dream team barely being able to stand each other for more than 5 minutes, Lucy is also inches away from a total nervous breakdown.When her mother indicates she wants to step down as CEO and retire, leaving the company solely in Lucy’s hands, she panics and flees.  But with nowhere to go where her mother or boyfriend won't think to find her, where can she flee to?  Enter the Thompkins-Flynn Family New Years.  Five glorious days in Alaska, far away from cellular signals and any means for her mom to track her down. Just a nice, relaxed couple of days to get her head back together, and surely Flynn would say yes (he always said yes).What could go wrong?(AU based on the movie The Proposal.  Pure fluff and humor.)
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lorena Flynn (past), Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, Noah/Lucy Preston
Comments: 16
Kudos: 46





	1. Thanks, I Hate It

“Merry Christmas, Lucy.”

“Mm, you too, Flynn.” 

Her response was automatic, and she didn’t even bother looking up from her phone as she spoke. Not that it surprised Flynn. Lucy Preston wasn’t exactly _mean_ so much as just lost in her own world. He knew her mother was the CEO of Preston-Keynes Publishing (and on the board of the holding company, Rittenhouse LLC) and with that came a huge amount of pressure to perform, not just from the shareholders, but from Carol Preston herself as well, who sounded (from what Lucy had let slip within earshot now and then) like a nightmare to have as a mother. She was obsessed with legacy and Lucy taking over for her upon her retirement, and any time Carol mentioned it Lucy seemed to think up a convenient excuse to avoid the conversation, not a good sign for Lucy being ready to take over - and that was assuming she even wanted the job.

But he had to admit, she was _incredibly_ good at her job as editor-in-chief. She could charm the wallet out of a man’s pocket without laying a hand on him and he’d thank her for it. Watching her in meetings was a sight to behold, as she easily commanded the attention of a room and somehow made everyone she came across feel like they’d been friends for years. 

In fact, how much you disliked Lucy Preston was a much better marker of your overall relationship, as Lucy never seemed to have the energy to try very hard with those closest to her, instead staying incredibly casual, almost dismissive at times. He’d been her assistant for 2 years and she still addressed him by his last name.

But god forbid you make her angry. He’d learned that his second day when he’d interrupted discussion during a meeting he was only meant to sit in on (in Lucy’s words, “you’re just a prop in the corner”). He’d offered an opinion of his own, was met only with stares and silence, and the look she’d given him could have melted steel. The dressing down she gave him afterward along with that look taught him one important thing about his new boss - Hell hath no fury like a Preston scorned. 

That they had subsequently taken his suggestion later, with no credit to him, and it having been a huge success, also showed him a lot about his new boss as well. That day had been the real start of their love-hate relationship, Flynn’s bitterness only kept in check by his eagerness to learn, and watching Lucy work, he learned a lot, and fast. He had a better eye for manuscripts she would like now, was even writing better himself. And on the occasional days that they managed to knock it out of the park, that was when he was truly grateful for his job, as Lucy would always pour them a glass of whiskey each to toast. That was also when the teacher in her came out, as she’d go over what had worked so well, and Flynn would watch her light up, fully engaged in her work. That she would then take the time to praise whatever tasks she’d left for him to complete always meant a lot, possibly because of how much of an arm’s length she kept him at, and every time she gave him more and more responsibility, he felt more and more lucky to have stumbled upon the job that he did.

Flynn had complicated feelings about his self-absorbed Type-A overachiever of a boss, that much was certain.

“Do anything fun on Christmas Day?” Flynn asked her, setting a coffee down on her desk while sipping his own. Lucy snatched it up immediately and took a generous sip, her eyes still not straying from her phone. It was almost impressive, how well she could multitask, even if it was usually at his expense.

“My parents threw their usual Christmas party. The yearly standard. It was crowded and boring and my mother demanded I wear this ungodly uncomfortable dress. Fun is not how I would describe it.”

“My heart weeps for you.”

That got Lucy to finally set the phone down on her desk and she looked Flynn in the eye, a smile tugging at her mouth that she was trying to resist. “Yes, I’m aware it’s a first-world problem, but you asked.”

“Don’t you do that every year? I feel like it’s a foregone conclusion at this point.” At least, she had attended the same event the past two Christmases since Flynn had started, but Lucy was a creature of habit and lived her life in hunt of her mother’s approval. She’d likely attend the same Christmas party to the bitter end - and probably take over for her mother on that front as well. 

“True. But I don’t get proposed to every year, so at least this one was a bit more interesting.”

Flynn choked on his coffee mid-sip and just barely managed to keep from spilling any on his crisp white dress shirt. Whatever response he’d expected, it wasn’t that.

“Proposed.”

“Yep.”

“Who?”

“Noah.”

“That the guy you’ve been seeing, what, five months?”

“Sure is.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What did you say?”

Lucy rolled her eyes dramatically, but he saw her slouch in her chair somewhat. “Well, thank god he didn’t do it in front of all of my mother’s friends, that would have made things so much worse.”

“Worse? Oh no. Don’t tell me you said no.” He was grinning now. There had been an office pool betting on how long it would take Lucy’s latest paramour to pop the question, and having spoken with the man only once when transferring his call, he seemed the sort who would buck social norms and get hitched far too early (or at least push to get serious, if nothing else). It appeared Flynn would be the recipient of the $150 pool, as all the rest guessed at least one year would pass before it happened.

The rest didn’t know Lucy’s type like he did. The rest didn’t know _Lucy_ like he did. His blessing and his curse.

Lucy rotated her chair away from him. “Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

The door to her office swept open before she had a chance to answer, and there in all her smarmy, pretentious glory stood the CEO herself, completely ignoring Flynn and the smile on her face as empty as usual.

“Ready to go?” Carol said to Lucy directly, not sparing a glance for the man seated to her left. “The board is all assembled, we’re just waiting on you.”

Lucy straightened in her chair immediately and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right up.”

“Five minutes, nothing more, please.” Carol gave her a significant look before disappearing back out the door, still never once having addressed Flynn’s presence.

“I think your mother may actually hate me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. You’re too low on the pecking order for her to have any opinion of you at all.” Lucy gathered her leather folio under one arm and stepped out from behind her desk, pausing beside Flynn to place a hand on his shoulder. “Be grateful you’re not on her radar, Flynn, trust me.”

Of course, it was easy for Lucy to say that, being that she was the heir to the publishing throne and already considerably well off despite being only in her mid-thirties. She typically took the brunt of the boss’s ire, but once she took over as CEO she could essentially publish any books she wanted. It was that end goal that kept Flynn hovering at her side, ready to do anything asked of him. Coffee? Check. Mail out rejection letters to not-so-promising authors? Absolutely. Attempt to console and/or shut down those same distraught authors, depending on the tone of the phone call? Love to.

Thankfully, they had a reasonable relationship as far as colleagues went, but it was clear to him how different they were as people, and considering her wealth of experience and lofty position, he couldn’t help but feel always a few steps behind her, basking in the afterglow of her triumph and waiting for her to reach the top so he could step out of her shadow. Then he could finally get what had kept him at this job so long, running errands and taking meeting notes and tirelessly working weekends for no overtime. If he were promoted to editor, there was a very good chance he’d be able to get his own manuscript published, his passion project, the one thing that had gotten him through the past few years of pain and loss and recovery.

“Good luck, boss,” Flynn offered as Lucy passed him, smiling a little too brightly. She didn’t even seem to have the energy to shoot a glare his way. That was a bad sign.

* * *

“You’re probably wondering why we asked you here today.”

Lucy swallowed and forced a smile. She didn’t know what this meeting was about, and her mother’s words were not a promising start, ambiguous as they were. Typically she could hold her own just fine when it came to the board room, but typically she wasn’t staring down her mother and ten other shareholders seated opposite her.

“We just wanted to meet with you to let you know that I will soon be formally retiring-” Carol lifted a hand to silence whatever comment was half-formed in Lucy’s mouth. “-and we the board wanted to inform you that you are our frontrunner to take over as CEO for Preston-Keynes Publishing.”

Lucy didn’t hear the applause that came after that announcement. Her ears were now ringing, a telltale sign of the panic attack she was just barely staving off. She swallowed and again forced a strained smile. “I thought you weren’t planning to retire until next year, mo- Ms. Preston.” She’d nearly slipped up there - her mother was rigid enough that she insisted Lucy address her the same as any other employee in her position would. If she’d messed that up in front of the entire board, she would never hear the end of it at Family Dinner Night.

Though she’d caught herself in time, Lucy knew her mother had also noticed the near slip-up, if the brief disappointment in her gaze was anything to go off of. It was imperceptible to most, but Lucy knew her mother too well to miss it.

“That _was_ the plan, yes, assuming it took that long for you to come into your own enough that you could handle the job. But Lucy, you’ve done wonderfully these past few months - your numbers are outstanding, and we hear nothing but praise from clients.”

 _Too fast, too soon_ was running on repeat through her mind. True, she’d been killing it for most of the year, but part of her confidence had been based on the assumption that she had a full year to hone her skills and assertiveness to a razor’s edge, like her mother.

“How soon would all of this be taking place?” Lucy asked, her voice softer than she wanted it to be. Carol Preston only respected strength, and it was because of that expectation that Lucy had had to deal with her performance anxiety early on (and thus was able to overcome it for the most part). But when it came to her mother, she’d likely never get her footing. Not until her mother finally departed and left her to her own devices.

“I was thinking about a month from now.”

Lucy clenched her teeth to keep her composure; her mind was now screaming _TOO FAST TOO SOON_. “When are interviews taking place?”

The board members glanced at each other, chuckling softly, her mother included.

“Sorry, we should have been more clear.” Carol clasped her hands on the table in front of her. “We won’t be considering external candidates. Provided you accept, we’re ready for you to start shadowing me in preparation to put your name on the door come February. I would reduce my duties and gradually step back for a smooth transition over four weeks.”

“Who would take over my role?”

“We’d leave that up to you to decide. Ideally someone within the company.”

“So you’re wanting an answer-”

“As soon as possible, yes. Ideally prior to January, but of course you’ll need some time to think about it.” 

_No shit, Sherlock_ is what she’d have said if she were a braver woman, but instead Lucy’s fake smile grew to an almost alarming width. It was the classic pageant contestant smile, a mask to hide behind. “Where to start? I guess with how honored I am that you consider me worthy of stepping into some very lofty shoes.” The group chuckled again, and Lucy felt some of her confidence coming back to her, spurring her on. “It’s a big decision, so I _will_ need to take some time to think on it.”

“Absolutely. We thought January 2nd might be a good day to meet again?”

“A week from now! That’s…” _Absolute bullshit, that’s what that is._ “-great!”

“Wonderful.” Her mother beamed at her, which twisted the knife in Lucy’s gut even further. “I think I speak for the board when I tell you how much we’re looking forward to your response, and how much we hope it will be yes.”

Lucy’s mother grabbed her arm to hold her back as the meeting attendees filtered slowly out of the room one by one. Once the last board member had departed, Carol closed the door behind them, then turned, her stony face completely transformed with the veil of professionalism dropped.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so excited for you!” Carol cupped her daughter’s cheeks and looked at her with pride. “I’m so proud, Lucy. Your work this year has been just incredible.”

Lucy felt a burn in the back of her eyes that she blinked away. Compliments from her mother came few and far between, usually attributed to something Carol herself had done on Lucy’s behalf. For her to be heaping praise on her, for her own merits, was…

“You have such an eye for what makes a best-seller. Nonfiction has seen huge growth after the last few hits you scooped up.”

Ah. Here it was. Carol would now pause, and Lucy would be expected to fill in with a reference to her mother’s influence in her success.

Annnnnd there it was, those three seconds that screamed _I’m not talking until you do._ “I...learned from the best!” Lucy said rather weakly, feigning a bright grin. If she kept the smiles coming, her mother was usually appeased enough to let her go.

“Oh hush, you’re too sweet. Anyway, enough about that.” No such luck today, apparently. Lucy braced herself for what she knew was coming next. “How was your Christmas Day with Noah? The party was so busy, we never got a chance to talk.”

Panic seized Lucy’s chest at the mention of Noah, and she abruptly pulled her mom into a brief, awkward hug. “It was great. Listen, mom, I’ve gotta run for now. I have a meeting coming up here in-” Lucy leaned back and looked at her watch, not remotely able to focus on the numbers. “-about ten minutes, so I need to get ready for that.” She started backing up toward the door, slow enough so as not to arouse suspicion that she was outright fleeing (she was). “I’ll call you later, I promise.”

“But it’s noon, I thought we could have lunch and talk-”

“Sorry, last-minute lunch meeting already planned that I can’t miss.” 

“With who?!”

“Tell you later!” Lucy dashed out of the conference room before her mother could say another word and rushed toward the elevator, where the doors were opening just in the nick of time. She could hear footsteps behind her, no doubt her mother following, and increased her pace slightly.

The elevator doors finished opening and lo and behold, Flynn stood behind them, an armful of folders cradled against his side with one arm while he tapped away on his phone with the other hand.

“Flynn!” Lucy hissed, and his head lifted immediately, eyes widening a fraction as he saw his boss hurrying toward him. Lucy mouthed _close the doors_ just before she reached him, and Flynn obediently reached forward to tap the door close button repeatedly until they finally slid shut, cutting off Carol Preston just two meters away from them. Now left alone in silence, Flynn stepped back from the panel of buttons and stood awkwardly next to Lucy, eyes forward and saying nothing.

“What?” Lucy finally asked, the silence of their descent dragging on just a little too long for her tastes.

“I said nothing.”

“Exactly. You just saw me high-tail it out of a meeting with my mother before slamming a metaphorical door in her face, and you have nothing to say?”

“What was the meeting about?” Flynn asked in a blatant attempt to change the subject. “Good news?”

 _No. Yes. No. I don’t know._ Too much was changing in her life all at once, starting with Noah down on his knee in the snow outside her parents’ house, and now _this_ …

Lucy waved a hand blindly behind herself until she touched the cool metal of the elevator wall, and she pressed both palms to it in an attempt to distract herself from rising panic. The elevator felt like it was getting smaller, the walls closing in around her. How had they only gone two floors? Had the elevator always moved this slow?

“Lucy?”

She looked up to meet Flynn’s eyes and saw he was concerned. Great. The last thing she needed today was her assistant seeing her fall apart. The working relationship they’d established was perfect already - they didn’t have to like each other to get results, and they _got_ results - and if she showed weakness, it could completely ruin her image in his eyes. She’d spent too long carefully crafting her professional persona to have it fall apart on her now.

“What are your plans for the weekend, Flynn?” she asked in her own blatant attempt to change the subject.

Flynn stared at her, his face going on quite a journey as he made several expressions she didn’t know how to interpret. “Going out of town,” he finally said, a little gruffly. He was suspicious of her intentions. Why would he be suspicious? She’d asked him about his life before.

...she _had_ asked him, hadn’t she?

“Where to?” Lucy forced herself to look him in the eye, forced the stupid smile she was getting so sick of having to fake back onto her face.

Now he _really_ looked suspicious. “Are you okay?”

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just that...in two years, you’ve never once asked me a personal question.”

“What? That can’t be right. Go on, ask me something.”

“Where was I born?”

Shit. She knew he had an accent, though it had all but disappeared to her ears by now, a Slavic lilt to his words, and she’d heard him having heated conversations on the phone with family before where he lapsed into his mother tongue.

“Serbia?” The eye-roll she received in response made her _really_ want to hit him. “Okay, fine, where?”

“Zagreb,” he answered, reaching back into his pocket for the phone he’d politely stashed away and making it clear to her how pathetic he thought it was that she didn’t have the faintest idea where he was originally from.

“That’s not fair. I bet you have no idea where-”

“San Francisco,” Flynn answered smoothly, not looking up from his phone. 

“How-”

“It’s my job to know everything about you, Lucy. It’s not yours to know everything about me. I wouldn’t expect you to ask.”

Ouch. Is that what he thought of her? Then again, she probably deserved that. 

And he still hadn’t answered her original question.

“Maybe this is why I don’t ask you personal questions, Flynn, did you ever think of that?” Lucy snapped at him before going quiet. She could feel Flynn’s eyes on her as she stared staunchly in the other direction, arms crossed.

Eventually Flynn broke the silence again, clearing his throat before muttering, “Alaska.”

“Pardon?”

“Alaska. Where I’m going.”

“Why?”

Flynn looked at her, either bemused or offended, she couldn’t tell which. “It’s where my parents live.”

“Oh.” More silence. “You don’t seem like the Alaska type.”

The doors opened before them, the elevator now back on their floor. “Not sure what the ‘Alaska type’ is,” Flynn replied as he exited. Lucy hurried to keep up with him, cursing her five-inch heels and how wide his stride was. 

“You know, suspenders, flannel shirts, big axes.” She followed him into her office and closed the door behind them. After a moment's hesitation, she turned the lock as well.

“So I should be a lumberjack, is that what you’re saying?”

“You’re too clumsy for that.” Lucy flopped into her desk chair and sighed, finally feeling a moment of peace. 

Flynn took his usual spot in the chair across from her. “I’ll have you know I’ve chopped down my fair share of trees.”

“Maybe, but you’ve ruined five shirts since you started here by tripping and spilling something on yourself, you hurt yourself bumping into the corner of my desk daily, and you...just type so, _so_ slow.”

“Is that last one just a dig at my age?”

“I have only the utmost respect for this nation’s elderly.” She felt a buzz on the desk and reached for her phone. Someone was calling, no doubt her mother-

It was not, in fact, her mother calling, and for once she wished it was, as she saw a smiling photo of Noah staring back at her. First, her mother sprang all of this on her with no warning, and now her boyfriend - who had proposed only to have Lucy stammer that she forgot something in her parents’ house, after which she literally ran away via the back door, leaving him there on the driveway - would not stop calling, wanting an answer as to why she had just disappeared. He’d left several texts as well already that she had also been staunchly ignoring and oh, look, good, there was another one for her to read later, hot on the tail of Noah’s phone call and subsequent voicemail.

“Everything alright?”

She didn’t realize until Flynn spoke that she had been staring at her phone in horror, and she quickly tossed it across the desk, attempting (and failing) to look casual about it. “Absolutely. Tell me more about Alaska.”

“My parents retired and moved up there. Every year we get together for the New Year, ring it in as a family.”

“We, meaning...your parents and you?” Clearly she’d guessed wrong, as that earned her another unimpressed look from Flynn.

“Among others.” His brow furrowed. “Why are you asking all of this?”

Her phone started to vibrate its way across the desk again and she finally picked it up, yanked open the drawer next to her, dropped the phone in, and slammed it shut. It continued to buzz from within the drawer, albeit less noticeable than before.

An email notification popped up on her computer, taking over for the phone apparently.

**_Subject: ???_ **

**_NOAH CALLING, SAYS U AREN’T ANSWERING - WHAT IS GOING ON??? COME SEE ME ASAP PLS._ **

**_xoxo MOM_ **

Lucy responded to her email by slamming the laptop closed.

“Lucy, are you okay?”

She focused on Flynn once more - reliable old Flynn, whose presence always somehow seemed to calm her (not that she’d ever tell him that), who was always at her side, answering her beck and call, doing anything asked of him-

Oh. Now _there_ was an idea.

“When are you leaving?”

“What?”

“For Alaska. When are you leaving?”

“I was flying out tomorrow morning-”

“Morning’s no good. Book two tickets for this evening. First class, my treat, but use the company card.”

“Wait-”

“I don’t know what kind of hotels are in the area but I’m not that picky - maybe just find a small B&B nearby? Whatever will keep me warm, I feel like Alaska will be cold this time of year.”

“Lucy-”

“Is it cold this time a year? It must be. I don’t even know if I have a coat still-”

“LUCY.”

She finally stopped talking.

“What are you prattling on about?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t clear.” She smiled. “You’re getting me the hell out of here.”

“I’m what?”

“Alaska, Flynn. I’m coming with you.”


	2. Plane, Train, Automobile?

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Stop being such a drama queen. You don’t have to deal with me once we’re there, I’ll just check in wherever you booked me-”

“You aren’t booked anywhere.”

That got her attention. Lucy finally lowered the airline magazine she was aimlessly paging through and turned to stare at Flynn. “Beg your pardon?”

“My parents’ place isn’t exactly near any towns, per se.”

“Meaning?”

“Once the plane lands in Anchorage, we’ll be taking a boat over to the island-”

“Your family owns an _island_?”

“Well, not own, more just happened to get lucky in the real estate market.”

She debated telling him to just book her somewhere in Anchorage instead, but something about his description of _Isla de Flynns_ intrigued her (not to mention the prospect of meeting his family - what kind of parents had a man like Flynn come from?). Not to mention a private island likely meant very little cellular service, perfect for staying off the grid long enough to sort her head out. With hundreds of tiny islands dotting the coastline, it would be nearly impossible for her mother to track her down.

“If you’re uncomfortable, though, I can find you a place to stay in Anchorage-”

“No,” Lucy said quickly, smiling.

Flynn narrowed his eyes. “Suddenly you’re eager to tag along?”

Lucy shrugged. "I'm curious."

"Curious about what?"

"Where this-" She gestured at Flynn. "-came from."

"An exceedingly boring couple had a baby, the end. Honestly, you'll probably be bored to tears; at least Anchorage has things to do. And room to breathe."

Lucy crossed her arms. "If I didn't know better, Flynn, I'd think you were hiding something."

"Something like the fact that my boss has tagged along with me for a family event, and I still don’t know what to tell them to explain it?"

Lucy rolled her eyes and waved him off, returning her attention to the airline magazine. "Just tell them we're dating."

Flynn just narrowly managed to avoid spitting his drink on the seat ahead of him. "You must be joking."

"What's the big deal? Just tell them we broke up in a couple of weeks, no harm done."

"It's a _very_ big deal, thank you. No, we won't be doing that. I'll figure something out by the time we land."

Lucy tossed the magazine onto her tray table and swapped over to checking emails on her phone. "When is the car picking us up?" 

She could tell by the smug look on his face that she wouldn’t be thrilled by the answer.

* * *

While Lucy stood by the baggage carousel waiting for her suitcases to finally tumble down the conveyor belt, Flynn made his way to the arrivals exit and stepped outside. A line of parked cabs stretched along the sidewalk, but a short distance down he could see his father’s beat-up pickup truck, with Gabriel leaning against the hood having a cigarette. 

“Smoking? What would Charlotte say?”

Gabriel perked up as he heard his brother’s voice and he turned to Flynn, already grinning. “Look who it is, back from the big city.”

“You say that as if you didn’t just fly in from Paris yourself.”

“Doesn’t count. New York is where the dreams of hopeful young interns go to die. How’s that going, by the way? Aside from the ‘young’ and ‘hopeful’ parts.”

“I’m not-” He cut himself off, knowing his brother didn’t care about the clarification anyway and that it would only get in the way of his joke. Instead, Flynn grinned and asked, “Can we have one New Years weekend where you don’t patronize me?” 

Despite his words, Flynn pulled Gabriel into a tight hug. Though he and Gabriel liked to give each other grief, as most siblings do, the brothers were always happy to see each other, Flynn even moreso considering everything Gabriel and his wife Charlotte had done for him in recent years.

“Where’s your bag?”

“Still disembarking, last I checked.”

Gabriel checked his watch. “Why don’t I go get us some coffee while you check on the luggage carousel?”

“Deal.” Just as Gabriel turned to leave, Flynn added, “Get three coffees.”

“Feeling tired after your journey?”

“It’s not for me.” Gabriel didn’t budge, waiting for an explanation, and Flynn sighed. “I have a...guest with me.”

A fire lit in Gabriel’s eyes - excited for fresh material to taunt his brother with, no doubt, and likely a hefty dose of curiosity as well - and he nodded. “Can do. See you in ten.”

Flynn made his way back to the baggage area and saw Lucy standing with her arms crossed, alternating between scowling at the monitor above and the phone in her hand. Just as Flynn joined her, a buzzer went off announcing the arrival of the suitcases.

“Is there a Starbucks anywhere around here?” Lucy asked Flynn as he appeared at her side, not bothering to look up as usual.

“Yes, but I doubt that’s what Gabriel is getting.”

“Gabriel?” Lucy slides her phone into her purse and finally makes eye contact. “Who is that? The driver?”

“The dri- Lucy, how wealthy do you think my family is?”

She blinked. “You have an island-”

“That you can walk the entire perimeter of in an hour or two.”

“Still-”

“Gabriel is my brother.” Flynn stepped forward to retrieve his own suitcase from the conveyor belt. “Gabriel Thompkins.”

“Oh!” She seemed surprised to hear Flynn had any extended family beyond his parents. “Thompkins? Not Flynn?”

“He’s my half-brother. His father died when he was young. Car accident.” Flynn shrugged. “My father formally adopted him before I was born, but Gabe kept his father’s surname in tribute to his memory.”

“That’s...actually really sweet.” 

Out of the corner of her eye Lucy suddenly noticed her suitcase and stepped forward on her stiletto heels to attempt to haul it off the belt. When she failed royally at this task, and was nearly dragged by the handle of her bag as it continued its way around the corner of the carousel, Flynn stepped forward to lift it easily for her. 

“Thank you,” Lucy mumbled awkwardly, retrieving her second suitcase, one that was considerably smaller than the first, and following after Flynn as he made his way toward the exit once more.

Lucy lost track of Flynn briefly once they were outside, but she quickly spotted him further down the road lifting her suitcase into the back of a blue pickup truck. She handed her other bag to him so he could add it to the first one, and he unceremoniously tossed it into the box (with Lucy staring in open-mouthed horror) just as an older man, a little rougher around the edges than Flynn but still just as tall and intimidating, approached them with a tray of three coffees - lattes from an independent chain, from the looks of things.

“That’s not coffee,” Flynn pointed out, taking the cup offered to him.

“You’ve been in America too long, you got used to the swill.” Gabriel turned his attention to Lucy. “You must be Garcia’s guest.” He held out one of the cups to her, which Lucy took gratefully, savoring the warmth from the cup on her chilly hands. “Gabriel Thompkins. I’m Garcia’s brother.”

“ _Older_ brother.”

“You’re only as old as you feel, Garcia, and I’m positive I can still pin you pretty damn easily.”

“Pin me? What is this, high school?”

“I’m surprised you can remember that at your advanced age.”

“I hear long term memory and math skills are the first to go when dementia sets in. What birthday is coming up this year, Gabe? 82?”

“And yet I don’t look a day over 35.”

“Shit, your eyesight is going now too?”

Lucy cleared her throat before the two men could really get into it. “I’m Lucy Preston,” she said brightly to Gabriel, sticking a hand out to shake. Gabriel glanced down at her hand and then took it, clearly amused by the formality.

“So how do you and Garcia know each other?”

“Oh, he didn’t mention?” Lucy looked past Gabriel at Flynn, and he mouthed _don’t you dare_ while his brother’s back was to him. Her smile widened. “I’m Garcia’s girlfriend.”

Gabriel laughed. “Really! You don’t say.” He turned to Flynn, who was glaring daggers at Lucy but whose face brightened the instant Gabriel’s eyes were on him. “Why is this the first we’re hearing of this, Garcia?” Gabriel asked, a little too brightly to be genuine.

Flynn glanced between Gabriel and Lucy, looking like a cornered animal despite his smile, then took a step closer to Lucy and gingerly rested an arm around her shoulders. “Just wanted it to be a surprise, I guess.” 

Lucy reached up to snatch Flynn’s hand that was awkwardly dangling off her shoulder and twined her fingers with his, hoping they’d look more relaxed and at ease with each other. Or, if not relaxed, at least less like they were posing for a shitty vacation photo with a spouse they’d fallen out of love with.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the shit they were shoveling, but shrugged and opened the passenger side door of the pickup. “Ladies first.”

Lucy peeked inside the cab. “There’s no backseat.”

“No, there is not.” 

Gabriel waited patiently until Lucy finally sighed and attempted to haul herself into the truck, still balancing precariously on her impractical heels. Flynn watched her struggle for a moment, not bothering to hide a shit-eating grin, then stepped forward and took one of her hands. Before she could protest, he placed his other hand against the small of her back and guided her into a seated position on the worn leather bench seat that was kept together in part by duct tape. 

“Where do I put my legs?” She’d tucked them to the side of the ancient, awkwardly prominent stick shift, encroaching on most of Flynn’s legroom. He slid in next to her, then lifted her left leg and dropped it on the other side of the shifter so that she was, in essence, straddling it.

_Don’t kill him, Lucy, don’t kill him, at least not until you can hide the body properly._

“You put them where they fit. Did you never visit a farm when you were young?”

Her face was burning, and she hugged her purse in her lap to keep herself from punching him. “My parents are both in publishing, my grandparents were entrepreneurs - my family isn’t really known for laying down rural roots.”

“You’re more ‘owners’ than blue-collar workers, I know. Learned that one a long time ago”

Before she had the chance to retort, Gabriel slid into the truck next to her. Trapped between the two giant men as she was, she wasn’t sure whether she felt safe or intimidated, and she stared resolutely forward while Gabriel started the truck and reached between her knees to shift into second gear, which just happened to mean the stick moved down, and therefore more in between her legs, and she was going to _murder_ Flynn the next moment they had any privacy. Possibly even sooner than that, if he kept it up. His family would no doubt understand. Gabriel would probably hold him down for her.

As they departed the Anchorage airport and headed into the city proper, Lucy could see a line of mountains ahead of them in the distance, half-obscured by fog. It was a beautiful sight she wasn’t used to in New York, and she stared at the horizon in a trance, the tension melting out of her body finally.

“Did you pack anything more...practical?” Gabriel asked, nodding down at her heels. “The island isn’t exactly high-heel friendly.”

“Oh, uh.” Lucy stared down at her shoes. “I have my runners.”

Gabriel snorted. “Better than nothing. Maybe mom will have some spare galoshes for when it rains.”

“How often does it rain?”

“Often.”

That appeared to be all the explanation he was going to give. They drove in silence for an hour or so, cutting through the downtown core and eventually emerging onto a small highway running along the coastline. After another half hour passed by slowly, Lucy’s eyes started to drift closed, and she eventually nodded off.

The truck coming to an abrupt stop woke her. She opened her eyes and looked around, disoriented and unsure whose shoulder her head was resting on. She glanced up and was horrified to realize she wasn’t sleeping on Flynn’s shoulder, as she’d assumed, which was still mortifying, but less so than snoring for god knows how long on Gabriel’s shoulder mere hours after they first met.

If Gabriel minded, however, he didn’t let on. “I’ll go get the boat ready,” he said as he slipped out of the truck, leaving Lucy and Flynn alone.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Lucy hissed, punching Flynn in the arm as hard as she could manage.

Flynn looked like he was just barely managing to hold back a laugh. “You seemed tired.”

“So you let your brother think I’m-”

“-sleepy?” Flynn rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “You’re overthinking this, Lucy. Gabriel was driving, he didn’t have time to form an opinion of you based on your sleeping habits.”

She didn’t have the energy to keep their back and forth jabs going - they’d traded sarcastic barbs as usual for most of the flight, with no end in sight now that they were-

“Lucy?”

She turned and saw Flynn now standing outside the truck, holding a hand out for her to take to help scoot across the bench seat and out of the cab. Her face was uncomfortably warm as she took his hand and slid awkwardly across the rough leather, ultimately gripping Flynn’s hand tight to keep herself steady (god, he had enormous hands...not a complaint, mind you, just an observation). Once she reached the edge of the seat, Flynn stepped back to give her room to clamber out on her own.

Her heel sunk an inch into mud the moment it touched the ground, and she wobbled off balance briefly, then gripped the sleeve of Flynn’s jacket while she attempted to extricate it. Instead, her foot came loose from the shoe entirely, and she flailed her arms as she stumbled, now only wearing one shoe-

Flynn caught her easily, his arms under hers to steady her until she had her balance again and offering the toe of his shoe for her to rest her bare foot on instead of the mud. She was about to (begrudgingly) thank him when she realized he was struggling not to laugh, and pulled away from him instead, glaring.

“I thought I’d be spending my weekend in a cute B&B somewhere in town, not bushwacking with the gang, sue me for not bringing a variety of footwear.” She used the truck for support and leaned down to retrieve her shoe, the heel coming loose with a wet _shlock_ , and she again nearly fell over, but managed to keep a tight grip on the truck to stay upright.

She was debating how to put her shoe back on while not just getting it stuck again when a pair of heavy-duty rubber boots were dropped at her feet.

“Here. Until we reach the house.”

“These are huge.”

“Good. That’s better than being too small.”

She shoved her feet into the boots while glaring at Flynn the whole time.

Flynn led Lucy down toward the dock, walking slower to accommodate her clomping footsteps as she hobbled in the boots. Gabriel was just loading his own bags onto the boat as they approached, and he took Lucy’s bags from Flynn’s hands to load them as well, then froze as he spotted her feet. 

“Are those dad’s work boots?” he asked Flynn, grinning widely, and Flynn nodded. Gabriel chuckled and held a hand out to help Lucy board. “You’re finally starting to fit in, Lucy.”

“Yay,” she deadpanned, taking his hand as she lifted her knees far higher than she normally would to step into the boat so she wouldn’t lose her size 100-something rubber boots to the frigid water. She glanced down at the water as she stepped forward, saw it splashing around the hull of the boat, and felt faint for a moment before hopping back to solid ground again. “Is there, uh, any other way to get to the island? Plane, train, automobile?”

Confused, Gabriel glanced at his brother, who shrugged, also baffled. “A biplane, but hiring one at this hour would be next to impossible. The boat ride is only about ten minutes, tops.”

“I’d rather take my chances with the plane, if it’s all the same-”

Lucy shrieked as Flynn suddenly lifted her into the air and, balancing precariously with one foot on the dock and one on the boat, placed her bodily into it, then gently but firmly pushed her shoulders down so she was forced to sit. She opened her mouth to protest and Flynn placed her suitcase in her lap, obscuring her vision. From there it was quick work to add the last of the suitcases, then untie the mooring rope and push away from the dock, all before Lucy managed to set the suitcase down and recover enough to yell at him.

Then she noticed the engine running, and the dock receding into the distance, and blanched. Flynn seated himself next to her, completely at ease as he watched the sunset on the water’s horizon, and while the warm glow of the light did look absolutely breathtaking on the treetops, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the choppy black water around them.

What Flynn hadn’t known, couldn’t have known, was that Lucy had, as a sophomore in university, been in a car accident. A bad one. She could still feel the swerve of her car sliding back and forth, the tires losing traction, being jerked against the seatbelt as the car hit the guardrail, and finally that brief, sickening feeling of weightlessness before the car slammed into the rushing black river below. Her own screams still rang in her ears, screaming as the car drifted with the water slightly downriver before it was trapped against a thick buildup of fallen trees, thinking she might actually be safe right before freezing water instead started to fill the car. She’d tried to push the door open, but couldn’t get it to move against the current, and the opposite door was pressed up against the fallen detritus. Trapped in a sinking metal coffin, she’d crouched on her seat as far above the water as she could, pounding her fists on the window and screaming with all the breath in her body.

Someone had happened by the torn guardrail and stopped to have a look, thankfully, and just as the water reached her shoulders and she just _knew_ she was going to drown, the window was smashed and a hand reached in for her to grab. She’d survived somehow, against all odds - and hadn’t been able to go near open water since.

...until now.

“Doing alright, Lucy?” Gabriel called from the wheel, not taking his eyes off the path ahead. Lucy swallowed and managed a nod, doing her best to conceal her sheer terror but still needing to grip the skirt of her dress to stay calm. 

Unfortunately, that gesture alone was enough of a sign for Flynn that something was off, and he rested an arm on the seat just behind her and leaned down so only she could hear. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said - or tried to say, but it came out as a fearful squeak more than anything.

Flynn thankfully didn’t question further - but he did shift his arm so it was wrapped around her shoulders, one hand holding her tight against his side.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. 

“You’re afraid.”

“No, I’m not.” Still a truly unconvincing squeak. “I’m just...tired.” She attempted to fake a yawn, but it became a shriek as the boat hit a choppy wave and jarred them in their seats. Flynn gripped her tighter in response, and this time Lucy didn’t fight it, instead turning her head with her eyes squeezed shut and burying her face against Flynn’s shoulder for the duration of the boat ride.

Finally, after what seemed like hours had passed (in reality, seven minutes start to finish), Lucy looked up and saw Gabriel tying the boat to a new dock, and could see glimpses of a house through the trees. Flynn let her go immediately and started handing his brother various bags to place on the dock and, once that was through, offered a hand to Lucy to help her onto dry land.

She considered ignoring the offered hand, already feeling foolish for having clung to Flynn in terror, but one more look at the water splashing against the boat made her swallow her pride. She’d never been happier than she was at that moment to have both feet on solid ground (or solid wood planks, anyway).

Lucy dragged her suitcase behind her up the path following Flynn and Gabriel’s lead (each man carrying their own bags as well as several shopping bags from Gabriel’s trip into town). By the time she reached the end of the path - several minutes after the brothers had, thanks to the wheels of her suitcase constantly getting stuck in tree roots that were jutting out - she was sweating and desperate for a shower and a soft bed. Thankfully, at the end of the path was what seemed to be the family home - part house, part cabin, altogether too large for just a few people. 

Lucy stopped dead to stare at the house while the other two continued toward the front door, which flew open seconds later. A woman, slightly older but not yet elderly, appeared in the bright rectangle of light and was difficult for Lucy to see until the woman dashed forward and threw her arms around Flynn’s neck. Flynn, in turn, straightened and lifted her into the air, squeezing her in a firm hug that said without words just how long it had been since they’d seen each other last.

“You boys finally made it!” The woman let go of Flynn and dropped back to the ground, then took his face in both hands and tugged him down to her level so she could press a kiss to his cheek.

“Mom, please-”

“You hush, I haven’t seen my baby in months, I’m allowed-”

“Mom, _I have a guest._ ”

That got her attention, and she released her grip on Flynn to instead look curiously behind him, where Lucy stood half bathed in shadow, her hair plastered against her sweaty forehead and still wearing the black rubber boots she was given that came up to just below her knees. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I thought it was just the boys, neither of which thought to introduce us apparently.” She gave each of the men a pointed look, then stepped around Flynn and reached out to take the smaller bag from Lucy’s shoulder. “Let me get that sweetheart. I’m Maria, I’m Garcia and Gabriel’s mom, though judging by their etiquette or lack thereof, I’m not so sure of that anymore.” Maria’s voice had just the tiniest hint of a twang to it, evidence that she’d once hailed from Texas.

“Lucy Preston.” She was shivering, the sun having fully gone down by now and the temperatures dropping accordingly, which she did her best to hide behind a smile. Maria saw through it immediately.

“You look like you could use a shower and a hot meal. Boys, take her bags in.” Maria took the bag from Lucy’s shoulder and slung it over Flynn’s shoulder instead, then seized the suitcase from her hand to shove into Gabriel’s. “Lucy, you come with me, I’ll give you the tour.”

Lucy followed Maria inside, leaving Flynn and Gabriel behind, and trailed after her through each room of the house. It looked straight out of an interior design magazine, and yet somehow felt cozy all the same, even with the vaulted ceilings and plethora of rooms.

“This hall is just the spare bedrooms, in case of guests, but this one-” Maria turned the knob on one of the doors and pushed it open. “-is Garcia’s room.”

Interesting. It wasn’t his childhood bedroom, sadly - he’d already explained how his parents had retired to this home, living the majority of their life on an island in Croatia until Flynn’s aging grandparents had passed away, at which point they’d followed their youngest son to the United States and sold the family home. Being a massive property on the coast that had been in his father’s family for close to a century, the sale had easily funded their new house purchase, and sizable retirement savings from their work as aerospace engineers had funded the rest. 

As for Flynn’s room, it was far larger than it had any right to be, complete with its own private veranda overlooking the water and an ensuite bathroom. 

It also only had one bed.

Lucy grabbed Maria’s arm as she went to leave in search of her sons. “Oh, uh, sorry - where am I sleeping?”

Maria stared at her, confused. “I’m sorry, I thought…” A blush spread across her face. “Oh god, you two actually **are** just friends. I thought you might be dating, since Garcia has never brought anyone home with him, but-”

Flynn’s mother looked minutes away from embarrassed hysterics and Lucy quickly laughed and shook her head. “No, no, sorry, you got it right, we’re dating.”

Now Maria looked even more confused. “Are you...quite religious, then?”

Lucy barked a laugh. “Jesus, anything but.” The irony of her wording took a second to hit her, as did the panic that maybe Flynn’s mother _was_ religious. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being religious, of course.”

“Agreed, though us Thompkins-Flynns have never been much for it either.” Maria raised an eyebrow. “If that’s not it, though...is there another reason you two need separate beds?”

Now that she heard it said out loud, Lucy couldn’t help but agree that it sounded weird. “No, I just wasn’t sure how you felt about our sharing a room.” She forced a grin. “That’s...great! Thanks so much for thinking of...us.”

“No trouble at all, Lucy.” Maria took her hands and squeezed them. “I’m so happy to meet you. I was starting to think Garcia was going to spend the rest of his life alone - and now here you are!”

“I gather Fly- uh, Garcia-” Well, _that_ felt weird in her mouth. “-hasn’t brought many girlfriends home?”

“Not a single one. Come to think of it, I don’t know that he’s dated since the accident...until now, of course.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed. “Accident?”

Maria again looked mortified, and she was starting to see where Flynn got his awkwardness from. “He must not have told you yet. Damnit, Maria, get your act together.”

“Told me what?”

“It’s not really my place-”

She really wasn’t going to tell her. “Maria, please - what hasn’t he told me? What accident?”

Maria sighed, then closed the bedroom door softly so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Lorena’s accident.”

“Lorena?” Was that name significant? It sounded somehow familiar, but she couldn’t recall a single instance of Flynn mentioning a Lorena. “Is that...your daughter?”

“My daughter-in-law, yes.” 

Lucy had a moment of confusion as she tried to understand why Flynn would take his sister-in-law’s death so hard.

Wait. Of course he wouldn’t. 

Which meant -

“Was Garcia married?” Lucy blurted before she could stop herself.

Maria nodded. “He and Lorena married right after they finished university - they both went to Stanford, both graduated top of their class. A couple of young kids with big dreams and useless degrees.” Chuckling, Maria allowed herself a moment to lose herself in the memory, then shook it off. “Anyway, enough on that. I’m sure when he’s ready to tell you about it, he will.” She tapped the side of her nose. “Our secret until then.”

Lucy smiled weakly. “Our secret.” Only 30 minutes on the island and already she had a secret from Flynn with his own mother. Clearly things were going smoothly.

Maria left her alone to get comfortable and headed to track down her sons, and Lucy took advantage of the moment of peace to look over the room a bit closer. It seemed to be mostly generically decorated, and sparsely at that. But what the room lacked in decor, it made up for in bookshelves - lots and lots of bookshelves. Flynn clearly loved to read anything he could get his hands on. She smiled. He’d chosen the right profession.

A desk in the corner had something large on the top, the shape concealed by a small sheet over it. Lucy lifted the sheet and saw beneath it a gleaming vintage typewriter, lovingly restored to near-perfect condition. The desk faced one of the windows overlooking the water, a beautiful view no matter the time of day or season - for a writer, it didn’t get much better than that.

A single crisp sheet of paper was still in the typewriter, ready to be filled with lines of prose, and she gingerly pressed a single key. It took a surprising amount of force, much more than a flimsy plastic keyboard required, but the sharp _clack_ of the letter stamping onto the page was viscerally satisfying in a way she couldn’t explain, making her wish she could do all of her writing that way.

Of course Flynn used a typewriter, _of course_. He was exactly the type-

“What are you doing?”

Lucy shot to her feet abruptly and turned to see Flynn staring at her from the doorway, both of her suitcases in hand. She looked back at the typewriter, scrambling for an explanation, then decided she was being ridiculous. It was just a typewriter. “I was just admiring your-”

Flynn cut her off with a sharp, “Put the cover back on.”

Baffled, and now also feeling a hefty dose of guilt, Lucy hurried to place the sheet back over the typewriter like she’d found it. When she turned back, Flynn had already disappeared again with zero explanation.

Curiouser and curiouser.

She unpacked her things and was finally able to indulge in the shower her body was aching for. She braided her wet hair over her shoulder, then slipped into lounge clothes that she hoped would be appropriate enough for late-night dinner and left the room to hunt down the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need someone to imagine as Gabriel, feel free to do as I am and imagine Richard Armitage with three days of facial scruff. You're welcome. :D


End file.
